Creating Life Beautifully

A True Story

2013-05-22T09:40:00.001-04:00

A few years ago I was at the park taking a walk. It was one of those perfect mornings! After days and days of much needed rain, the sun was shining and early summer was in the air. While I was stretching and getting ready to walk I noticed a pile of rocks sitting on top of a post about eye level. I found it odd and wondered why they were there. This is a true story about that pile of rocks and the man who put them there.

After a couple of laps I fell in stride with another dog walker named Wes. Wes is a senior citizen, a very large man. His doctor has ordered him to "get some weight off". So he is walking his two adorable long hair dachshunds, Oscar and Joe. Their short little legs have to work hard and it is getting hot, so he gives them breaks. Both dogs walk with him at once until one gets tired. Then one pup takes a rest inside the truck and the other gets 1:1 time with Wes. Used to he would leave his pups on their leash and let them get water and rest in the shade under his truck. They liked the shade and the outside air. This was their routine for a long time.

As we started our third lap, Wes stopped, took a rock from that pile I had noticed, and moved it to the top of another flat post. Wes explained that every time he completes a lap he moves a rock from one post to the other. So....when all the rocks have been moved to the second post, he has finished his 9 laps. Pretty smart I thought. Each lap is 1/3 mile so he is taking a 3 mile walk! I was impressed. Oh, and then he tells me he does this 3 times a day! Yep....so he is walking 9 miles a day with his dogs and sometimes with a new friend like me.

Wes lost 35 pounds the first year he did this. His doctor was delighted.

But...one day while Wes was walking Oscar... and his other dog, Max, was resting underneath the truck, two big dogs attacked little Max. By the time Wes got to the truck to rescue Max, it was too late. In rage and grief Wes got his gun out of the truck and shot the two offending dogs. Pretty scary stuff! I hate guns. Period. But that's what he did. And I can understand why.

A court battle followed, grief continued, and Wes did not walk anymore. He stayed home in his chair. He felt guilty. He grieved Max. He ate. He got bigger and bigger and gained all his weight back and even more. He became depressed and just didn't care.

Fast forward a year and now he is back here at the park walking again. He has once again worked up to walking 3 miles at a time, 3 times a day and moving the rocks from one post to the next. He has a new pup, Joe. When his pups rest they stay inside the truck where it is safe.

The moral of the story? Well, life knocks us down every now and then. Often we bring it on ourselves but we never realize it at the time. Then, of course, we are at choice. Continue to grieve, sit, eat, drink, withdraw, blame, harbor anger, get sicker. Or, like Wes, we can make a different choice. If an old, lonely, grieving fat guy like Wes can manage to forgive, get off his butt, and start all over again to enjoy the day and his life, so can we.

http://letmetelluastory.blogspot.com/2013/05/true-stories-week-may-20-2013.html

A Very Good Day

2013-05-21T09:13:00.000-04:00

Art, Nature, Music, Literature: The best parts of life.

I got to visit Turnipseed Nursery and Art Studio yesterday and visit with the "grower, designer, artist" Steven Stinchcomb. His paintings are stacked and hung inside this little studio just rich with everything I love.

Isn't this one great? Buttons, it reminds me of you. One of these days I will paint one of your cows for you. Hopefully in this lifetime.

Steven paints much more than cows but these were really speaking to me yesterday. Moo!

I hope your day is filled with things you love. That was yesterday for me....and now I'll set out to make today just as good.

Trash or Treasure?

2013-05-18T09:41:00.001-04:00

This is one of my earliest paintings and I can see many "things wrong with it". I put it in the trash bin last week......and I'm so glad I changed my mind and retrieved it before it was carted away! I don't remember if it is oils or acrylics, oils I think. It just makes me feel good. Hope you enjoy it too.

12" x 16"

Original

Wouldn't it be fun to live near the beach? To go there whenever the fresh air, sunshine, and breeze beckon? To go there whenever you want to really feel oneness with nature, to sing out loud, to run and not even realize it, to breathe deeply, to think, play, cool your heels? I don't live anywhere near the beach so I'm keeping my little beachy painting. It will be the closest I get to the real thing for awhile. Treasure for sure.

Getting To Know Andy Warhol 1928-1987

2013-05-17T10:14:00.001-04:00

American Artist and Father of Pop Art

Even though someone once tried to murder him, he survived. But years later, following routine gall bladder surgery, he died in his sleep. When it's your time, it's your time.

We all agree with this but I'm wondering if we all do it.

"Open my eyes that I may see." Remember that song?

And someone else said, "Things do not change, we change."

The artists I know all want to make money. They want to make it doing what they love, but they do want to make it.

Very good advice for me.

Did you know he coined this phrase? It really stuck around didn't it.

And then there was the humble tomato soup can. My favorite soup.

Enjoy the day and see beauty in everything. Create something that wasn't here yesterday. Hmmmm. What could that be?

Gardening Without Gloves, Living Without Thought

2013-05-15T09:53:00.002-04:00

Today was my day to plant flowers. Purple waves all across the front of the house. Here is what I'm envisioning once they mature.

Photo From The Garder's Companion

First thing I had to do was thin out a big patch of overgrown mint (which I do not want), to make room for the lovely petunias (which I do want).

That is when I thought about what happened last week when I reached my naked hand into a bush to trim some dead leaves and a sudden, searing pain stabbed my gloveless hand. A vicous wasp attack that left me weak and wailing....yet realizing it was my own fault.

So today, once again carelessly gardening without gloves, reaching into overgrown patches I thought, "What if there is a snake in there? What if a snake bites my hand?" I decided, if that happened I would just call 911, and get them to save me. About a minute passed and, you guessed it! There is a snake right there. Really. It's amazing I didn't grab it!

It didn't bite me though. I think he was just as glad I didn't bite him! But it did cause me to think. We all know our thoughts create our world. At least I think most people agree with that to some degree. This was what I call a gentle reminder just for me of that very fact. Did my thoughts have anything to do with the snake to showing up? I don't know. But as careless as I sometimes am with thoughts and focus, I know I need little reminders to stay on track and live my life the way I choose.

So, okay, I will force myself to wear gloves when I garden... or be prepared to accept the consequences of wasp stings and snake bites, poison ivy, sunburn and scratches. And I will watch my thoughts a little more carefully... or be prepared to accept the consequences. And if I choose them more carefully I just might have a better day.

And still, I know there is a big ole momma snake out there too....just in case I need a bigger reminder down the road. God is so creative. :)

In The Pink

2013-05-11T12:26:00.000-04:00

Pink....such a delicate yet powerful color. Once I decided I would wear "something" pink every day for the rest of my life. Of course I did not.

We think of pink as the color of love, compassion, and sweetness. We wrap baby girls in it from head to toe, and even though men wear pink now, we wouldn't think of wrapping our baby boys in pink blankets. Would we?

A strong color made up a fiery, determined, out-there red tinted with white...pure and innocent.

Innocence and strength is always alluring.

Pink calms us, nurtures us, relaxes us.

And it fights hard for women.

We love our rosy pink cheeks and lips, and if they aren't that way naturally, we help them out a bit.

To be continued.

An Old Friend and a Cup of Coffee

2013-05-10T16:01:00.000-04:00

There isn't much better in this world than being with those we care about. We think of our families first. Like a fish jumping in the lake, family is our first "ripple ring". But there many more rings as the ripples spread. Your best friends, your colleagues, or your neighbors all may end up in your ripple effect.

The other day I heard a quote that said, "Never miss a chance to hug an old friend". It's now on my refrigerator fighting for a place amid all the healthy eating signs my husband hangs there. Today I not only got to hug one but I got to have coffee with her too.

We shared so much it exhausts me to think about it. Working together day in and day out for years. Handling usually difficult situations that could bring you to tears, laughter, or just frustration equally fast. Sharing a glance in a tense meeting and reading each other's minds. Partying too. And then, fast forward. Time moves on and they are gone from your daily life.

It was like we were talking about yesterday. So real. Catching up on all the people we know...the one who had open heart surgery yesterday, the one who lost 60 pounds, the one moving to Destin, Florida. But best of all we talked about now! The now is retirement...the time when you can do whatever you want to do. A gift from the Gods!!!!!!

Talking about the past is fun but we don't live there anymore and we don't want to. Now we want to talk about new Ipads , yoga, her new blog, learning to paint, volunteering at MUST Ministries, reading at the library, planning a trip, staying healthy, and just loving each and every day.

Were you a Brownie? Or a Girl Scout? I was. That's where I learned to sing, "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold." I hope I never forget it.

Blogging Isn't What It Used To Be

2013-05-09T23:14:00.001-04:00

No, blogging is not what it used to be.

Don't you agree? Blogging has morphed into marketing and personal branding. Everyone wants to make money online. I'm all for that! I make money on Ebay so I get it. It's just that I thought blogging was about sharing our lives. At least that is what I experienced.  It was safe, free, and pure.

After being away from my blog for 6 months or so, I returned to a new landscape.  Many posts read more like discount store ads than anything else. I could get a masters degree in the business of coupons, freebies, reviews, give-aways, free products, promotion, surveys, and affiliate marketing. Instead of sharing our lives and our insights, our humor, our creativity, it seems now about building a business.

So I just don't read those blogs anymore.

I'd much rather learn about you and your every day lives around the globe. I'm interested in your photography, your poetry, your ups and down, your humor, your stories. Now, I don't know how last week's current event affected you. I no longer know what happened to you when a flood or hurricane hit your town. I don't know if you knew anybody at the Boston Marathon. I have no idea what a dinner at your house is like, or how the weather is treating you.   I don't know what you are reading or what you did on your birthday or where you went on vacation or if you are loving life or struggling with it. Your place in the world is once again far away and foreign to me. Impersonal. Cold.

Not to be overly dramatic but I often thought of "us bloggers" as tiny steppers toward "world peace". Don't laugh. Sprinkling our unique experiences and wisdom around the globe had the potential to foster understanding among folks at a kitchen table in the Ukraine, on a back porch in Georgia, and at a theater in New York City.

I do miss reading your philosophy and seeing how we all think. I miss feeling your authenticity whether the joy of being in remission, sadness from loss, lack of balance, doubt, fear, appreciation, or celebration.

Everyone blogs for different reasons. For me it is just about self expression....exchanging mine with yours for fun and for the greater good.

It is definitely not to find coupons and deals. Although today... Walgreens has an 8x10 photo collage for free. Oh, never mind.

Memories For Me

2013-05-07T15:20:00.000-04:00

Many times I write a post just for me. Most of the time, really, I guess. This one is especially for me.

Yesterday we celebrated mom's 93rd birthday. No big party this time; just a few friends/family coming and going. She had an absolute blast of a day. Not so much about doing her favorite things anymore or going to her favorite places. None of that matters. Only being with special people.

Yesterday the special people were her nephew, "Will-yum", now Bill to the world, and his wonderful wife Sandy. I kept it a surprise so when they came to pick her up, she was over the moon. My birthday treat for her (crashing on her sofa and having a spend-the-night party at her assisted living place) paled in comparison to seeing a favorite nephew. I am special, but I am also "old hat".

I should have had a pad and pencil handy throughout the day! After 90 most filters are gone and what comes out of the mouth is pure, unadulterated, in-the-moment personal truth. And, as is true for all of us, she's not so sure she'll see you tomorrow. Let's see, what can I remember?

Mother: "William, do you give God thanks for where you are in life?" (because if you don't you are "fixing" to get a lecture)
Bill: "I tell you what Aunt Frances. When I wake up every morning, that's the first thing I do, even before my feet hit the floor."
Mother: Beaming, and doing a little fist punch of joy in the air, mother has now relegated him to sainthood for sure.

Mother to me: "When you were born your daddy was traveling. When he got to the hospital, he gave me a hug, and then went over and picked up that tiny bundle over there", pointing to the other side of the room as if it was happening now. He just hugged you up close and told you something. I didn't hear him but I think he said, 'Hey. I'm your daddy.' And you had the best daddy in the world." Yes, I did.

Mother: "I just don't understand why God didn't let Marion or Dot, (her deceased sisters-in-law), stay around longer to be my buddy. Looks like he would have left one of them."

Mother to me, her money manager: "Am I still giving money to the church?" Me. "Some. Not as much as you once were." Mother giving me one of those looks: "Don't ever forget. You can't outgive God." And truer words have never been spoken.

Mother's favorite birthday gift wasn't the painting, the chocolates, or the flowers. What she loved most was a new paperback world atlas I gave her. I knew she would. That is so my mother.

And the pink scarf from Gwen

Another favorite gift was the pound cake my sister made from an old family recipe and served on mother's old cake plate she had used a million times. The cake had the "streak" and everything. The old cake cover had dents and everything. "Use a sharp knife", she says. "That one just saws it off." (Oops, no sharp knives in assisted living.)

Mother to my sister: "I need to go shopping and see what's on the racks."

I think the reason this day was so precious to me was the journey we took to get to this happy place. It was a long one but I know that mother is as happy as she can be, well cared for, reading books, and talking about going shopping. That's just a big wow.

Oh yeah, and her toe nails are painted in silver glitter. Really. Way to go, Shirley.

Every day is a gift......And I will also remember the journey is only the journey. It is not the end.

Sandra

Movies Or Books?

2013-05-03T08:43:00.001-04:00

Would you rather read the book first... or see the movie and then read the book?

Or do you skip the book altogether? Or do you skip the movie altogether?

I love both. The book is undoubtedly filled with so many more details and explanations that it is richer by far and more complete than any movie could be. The book tells you everything, or most of them do.

The problem is that movies can't possibly contain the details of a book. So much is left out. That leaves me wanting more. You do get to see the characters you have conjured up in your mind but usually they don't match. You've formed a relationship with these characters in the book. Then they show up differently. (Sometimes we do that in real life too.)

If I see the movie first, I have no interest in reading the book because I already know the story and that's the bottom line for me. If I read the book first, I enjoy the movie but wish they hadn't left out so much.

The Great Gatsby is opening in a few days. So we can see the movie remake starting May 10 'at theaters everywhere'. The book has been out since the 1920s so there's a good chance we've already read it. If not, it's in the library. The original movie has the young Robert Redford.....but it still doesn't hold a candle to the book. I expect to thoroughly enjoy the sheer delight a movie brings. But the only reason I'll know "how it really was" is because I read the book.

And you? Book or movie or both?

Change Is Always With Us

2013-05-02T12:36:00.000-04:00

My older son is a Landscape Architect/Designer. He designs outdoor property to suit people's individual tastes and desires and helps them solve problems. Everyday he is acting upon something I often heard growing up. "Leave a place better than you found it." He is doing that.

Just three days ago, he sent me this photo of the view from a client's back yard. Spectacular.

Today, Friday, May 2, he sent this one.

What a change, huh.

I started writing this simple post about how fast things can change. If you don't like the weather, just wait 5 minutes and it will change. Sunny, snowy, back to sunny. In three days we go from beautiful, brilliant Spring to beautiful, brilliant snow. The end.

But as I write, I remember what is really important, the nugget as they say. It's not just observing changes happening around us. It's remembering that, as we go through our day, ....every moment we are at choice. If we can't actually change a situation, we can choose to change the way we look at it. We can focus on the gift instead of being halted by the challenge. We can respond thoughtfully to a situation rather than just reacting to it.

We can choose to feel, to see, to tolerate, to celebrate, to enjoy, to be miserable. You agree?

Sometimes we want change to "hurry up"! Sometimes we want a moment to last forever. And even though the sunny day is easier to love, you must admit the snowy cold day is really just as beautiful.

Enjoy this day!

What Are You Thinking About Today?

2013-04-29T10:11:00.001-04:00

I am writing this just for me today. It's a reminder I need. If it's a reminder you need too, that's great. Then it will help us both. So...take and moment and...consciously, on purpose,

"Focus on what you want, not on what you don't want."

Everything just goes better that way. Although this has been expounded upon and sermonized in many different ways, it still comes down to the same bottom line.

"Focus on what you want, not on what you don't want."

Some say it this way. "Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think on these things." Yep.

Wherever you are, notice what you are thinking about as the day goes by; what thoughts are going through your mind. Just watch your thoughts a bit. I will too.

"Focus on what you want, not on what you don't want."

Sandra

You Will Always Find People Who Are Helping

2013-04-16T21:33:00.003-04:00

He must have had a great mom.

Mom: "Always look for the helpers." Comforting.

President Obama: "We will find out who did this." Comforting.

Taxes and The Post Office

2013-04-15T17:14:00.000-04:00

Everyone is at the post office today. It is the place to be. I know because I was just there. After all it IS April 15.

Our taxes were actually submitted on line this morning. That's the best way. But Mom's needed a "check in the mail" so that was my task.

"Being Grateful In All Things" was the lesson in my Women's Group last night. I knew it already. And still, even knowing it, it isn't always easy to do. When something we call 'bad' comes our way, it isn't natural to be glad, to be grateful. But it is possible to think it through and look deeply until you can find a positive aspect. Then we can begin to feel gratitude.

I stood in a long line thinking about this and and decided it was a test. Could I possibly feel gratitude about paying my taxes? Can you? Here's what I came up with.

1. I'm grateful I have the money to pay them.
2. I'm grateful I am getting a refund from the state even though the Feds never give me one.
3. I'm grateful for all the services I receive that I surely take for granted every day.
4. I'm grateful I can do my part.
5. I'm grateful for all the jobs generated by the IRS.
6. I'm grateful for the really nice/helpful lady at the counter. Postal workers get a bad rap.
7. I'm grateful for the two people who helped me get my car out of the jam in the parking lot.

I'm not going to pay taxes early, or voluntarily, but I did find it possible to move into gratitude during this experience. Even with all this gratitude oozing from my pores, I know there's just got to be a better way when it comes to paying our fair share. And I wonder in 5 years if we will even have a post office at all. If we don't, I will miss it.

Stepping Into Eldercare

2013-04-13T11:58:00.000-04:00

There are many of us out there. We are beyond the sandwich generation that balances raising a family and caring for older parents. Way beyond. There is another level, a time when our very elderly parents are almost totally dependent. If your parents live long enough there is a good chance they will need you. They will become needy, not necessarily financially, but in the "activities of daily living".

It's just the way it is. Some might say if dad, at 95, wants an entire lemon meringue pie for dinner, let him have it. I'd probably say that. Once. Maybe on his birthday. But when it becomes a daily meal, or there is an almost-fire in the kitchen, or like my aunt, a semi swipes the side mirror off their car, or dad starts using one set of clothing for an entire week, you will step in. How you step in is an art in itself.

My sister and I edged into mother's life more and more in countless ways. Over a five year period we progressed from the alert bracelet, to a driver, to a companion, to a cook, and on and on. We lost our sense of balance in our marriages and homes while we tried to be there in every way for mom...and meet her every need. We even moved in for six months, alternating every two weeks. "You mean you left your husbands, your life, your home to take care of your mother?" Yes, we did.

Looking back I am not sorry. It sounds noble to say it was a privilege, but it really was. It also led to resentment, some anger, loss of interests, and sometimes not even brushing my own teeth every day. I'm just being honest.

In November we made the decision, along with mother, for her to move to an assisted living community in her town. It was hard...but not as hard as I thought it would be.

Fast forward five months. My mother is as happy as she can be. That's not a Pollyanna statement. She really is "as happy as SHE can be right now". She has three healthy meals a day with her peers. They talk. They laugh. They watch after each other. She gets dressed every day and still has her hair done every week. One of the residents doesn't remember much...at all. But she does remember how to play the piano by ear and delights in playing every night after supper for whomever will listen and sing-a-long. Priceless.

My mother may fall again tomorrow. But there will be someone to assist her in 3 minutes. She is loved on, checked on, talked to, listened to, and hugged. We still visit all the time but we are daughters again, not caregivers. And that has made all the difference.

Scott Middleton of Agape' Senior spoke at a Parent Care conference I attended yesterday in Atlanta. I am so glad I heard him. Aside from his qualifications, he has a heart for the elderly. Immersed in their world, he walks his talk everyday. I just got his book yesterday and can't wait to read it and share it with my sister.

Parent Talk: The Nine Conversations To Have With Your Aging Loves One. Scott could have named it The Art Of Stepping In.

As long as I am in this elder care loop I want to be informed and on the cutting edge. It will help me, after all, when I am on the receiving end! Smile.

Enjoy the day!

Sandra

The Great Gatsby Again

2013-04-11T22:23:00.000-04:00

Gorgeous Robert Redford is a hard act to follow but gorgeous Matt Damon is going to try. Oops, I meant to say Leonardo DiCaprio!

F. Scott Fitzgerald's classic story speaks many things. Historically we get a nice lesson in what was happening in the world of the rich in New York City in the 1920s. We get a vivid picture of ornate parties, open adultery, elaborate dresses, sweaty heat, no air conditioners, a lot of alcohol and cigarettes at any function that even slightly resembled a social event.

We get only a slight peak at the 'other side of town' and their lack of hope, their need to escape, their dirty fingernails.

It was a tragic love story to me. Unrequited old torch is finally reignited, too briefly, only to disappear once again due to, well, we'll say "circumstances". No spoiler here.

Coming May 10 to your nearest theater!

Easter Story

2013-03-31T08:49:00.001-04:00

Once upon a time, over two thousand years ago, a man named Jesus lived in a faraway land. He was born in the hay among the cows and sheep, his young parents in shock and awe. He beat the odds, as they would say today, and became the most famous man in all of history. Perhaps this was the first thing he taught us: that no matter our humble beginnings there are no limits on our life.

Around the age of 12, as this boy was beginning his journey out of boyhood into manhood, he was drawn to spiritual things. He had a great yearning in his heart for knowledge. Instead of hanging out at the mall, he slipped away from his parents and spent time "at the church" with the rabbis.

Time passed. He grew into a man. There was no media back then but people still began to follow him wherever he went. They listened to what he had to say. They watched him perform miracles. He was charismatic. Just to be in his presence was uplifting. Just to touch the hem of his garment was healing.

The leaders began to get a little worried. What if this continued? What if they lost power and their control of the people? Hmmm. Their worry turned to riot as they demanded the death of this man.

They did it in public. They could have killed him at night out in the fields. No one would have known. But they wanted to make a point. "You people cannot think for yourselves. You'd better fall in line with the government or you will be sorry. Just look what is happening to him." Even some of Jesus's closest friends were afraid and betrayed him.

Back then the punishers wanted people to suffer. They made it hard, humiliating, slow, inhumane. They crucified them, broke their legs. They mocked his ideas so they would break too and die with him. Ha. That didn't work.

A rich disciple of Jesus named Joseph asked Pilate for Jesus's dead body and Pilate, feeling a little squishy about the whole thing, said okay. Joseph honored the body of his friend, cleansed it, wrapped in white, and laid it inside a new tomb he had just built. At least he could do that.

I could say the rest is history since today is Easter. Jesus didn't stay in that tomb for long. He wasn't finished. He came back. He didn't die. We don't either.

We remember and memorialize those we love. And those who have impacted the world and our lives. So today the whole Christian world does that. We do it with Easter bunnies, and Easter egg hunts, and new dresses and deviled eggs. We go to church and read Scripture. We celebrate the good, not the bad, not the suffering. Not the agonizing hours he hung upon the cross to teach us about everlasting life in such a poignant way we would never forget.

So this man who was so threatening had the last Word after all. Love. Goodness. Forgiveness. Power. Humility. Hope. Joy. Rest. Brotherhood. Newness of life. Always another chance. Always another Spring.

Happy Easter!

My Favorite Tree

2013-03-23T22:28:00.000-04:00

11" x 14" Oils

Lavender Fields

I think this is only the second tree I've ever painted. For some reason painting a tree has been daunting to me.

Trees are so awesome...how could it not be daunting to try and capture their essence? How could I possibly do them justice? They represent so much don't they. Strength, beauty, respite, shade, comfort, memories, and on and on. Any tree you've planted in your yard probably has a story.

I remember my husband and my kids digging up a "huge" tree and moving it from the front yard to the back yard. On a recent trip back, 25 years later, ...it is "still there" and even "huger" than it was then.

I remember planting cuttings from my Grandfather's peach tree that eventually grew as tall as the house showering white blooms every Spring. And forsythia bushes that practically became trees started from a snatch of roots from Nanny's yard in the 70s.

Outside my window right now is a Japanese Maple Judy gave me...a friend right beyond the pane.

That's what a garden is to me. In the South we call it "the yard". More than the colors and blooms and textures and berries, all of which I love, it is the story that each plant tells that matters to me.

So back to my tree. I love it. Isn't it beautiful? I struggled with it. It's looser and more layered than I usually paint. My most excellent teacher, Chris diDomizio, helped me. He could see what I couldn't. Together we made quite a work of art I think. And I am confident enough now to paint another tree and it will be a dogwood.

There is a big story about dogwood trees...

Just waiting for them to bloom.

Stay tuned.

Rembrandt's Return Of The Prodigal Son

2013-03-06T09:17:00.002-05:00

One of my greatest pleasures at this stage of my life is the time I spend with Chris Didomizio at Olde World Art in Atlanta, Georgia. You can find me there a few days a week.....every day if I had my way.

It is there that I fulfill my lifelong dream of becoming an artist. You see, I wasn't born an artist, but I was born with an artist's soul. There is a difference. Chris says, and I hang on his every word, that if God gives you the desire you can learn the tools....or something like that.

Anyway, class is exactly the how-to approach my left brain needs. The "rules" the old masters taught us, especially Sargent, still apply in every painting worth its salt...even contemporary art that leaves you wondering. I am getting a classical art education at my pace which nobody sets but me.

Yesterday we talked about Rembrandt's painting of The Return Of The Prodigal Son.

No, it's not the type of art I have hanging in my home either but, ah, the story. So many sermons have been spoken on the prodigal son, relevant every day in every age. But now I see even more.

Notice the hands of "the father". The left hand firmly holding his son's shoulder, the guiding hand of strength. Notice the thumb. The right hand, a more gentle gesture of reception and pure love, almost a caress. You will see the difference if you look hard.

Is the son coming home because he has nowhere else to go? Is he returning because he is seeking the healing balm of his father's love? Is he returning, as his brother seems to resent, to claim his inheritance? And that brother is whole different story for another day.

Isn't this really a story of all of us? Searching, wondering, drifting, experimenting, questioning, working, seeking, playing, growing, wandering with or without purpose through our lives? It's okay. We always have a place to come home to and it is only a breath or a thought or a decision away. God has given us that gift...

Who Is Sailing This Boat?

2013-03-03T18:58:00.002-05:00

11 x 14 Original Oil

SOLD

Every painting has a story.

The artist knows the story and that is all that is important.

I loved creating this boat. If I could paint it again, and I just might, I would do a few things differently...but

I still love it just as it is.

Enjoy!

Nice blog to visit if you love the creative spirit.

Onion Soup

2013-02-18T21:09:00.000-05:00

So glad I finally finished this painting. I mean you really wouldn't believe how long it took me! This is an exercise in my art class that focuses on contrast. It's also about color...which I love, but primarily it uses contrast as the main tool. The painting subject matter reminds me of the quote by Carl Sandburg:

"Life is like on onion. You peel one layer at a time and sometimes you cry."

Oils 11 x 14

Here is a tasty recipe for Onion Soup for those who are getting hungry. You might enjoy it a lot better than the painting! No crying allowed though...

http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/french-onion-soup-10000001011280/

Cutting For Stone

2013-01-12T10:18:00.001-05:00

Cutting For Stone, by Abraham Verghese, is the book my book club is reading this month. I actually selected it based on so many good reports from people I know who couldn't put it down. It will be interesting to see if my BCFriends enjoyed it. We are a diverse group.

What about you? Have you read it? Did you like it? What were you favorite or least favorite parts?

I liked the part that focused on the family and their relationships best. The setting, the civil war.... necessary backdrop I know, and important to the author, but I could skim over those parts. My taste usually runs more toward simple books or autobiographies, also usually simple, so I had to shift a bit to enjoy this book. If I read it again I know I could get much more out of it as the details were so "plentimous".

Good book? Definitely yes. A page-turner? Definitely no.

Let me know your thoughts.

Sandra

One Reason I Hate Guns

2013-01-11T09:35:00.000-05:00

I could take a serious approach to this post but that's been done a thousand times.

I could 'be real' in this post and write about the time I watched my neighbor shoot his wife 5 times and watched her fall dead in the driveway..... as their 2 little boys rode their bikes down the street. But that is too painful and too true.

I could site many statistics and prove that most guns are used to shoot the ones we love the most. But that gets too serious too.

So, I'm going for comic relief. My husband read this story to me this morning and we laughed until we almost fell out of our kitchen table chairs. Not that it is funny. It isn't. It's dreadful. But forget, for a moment, that it is real and read it like Jay Leno is telling it. It's okay to laugh.

"Woman Aiming At Puppy Kills Husband"

Sited directly from AJC, July 17, 2011

Police in Mississippi said a woman opened fire on a puppy that had threatened children, but...wound up shooting and killing her husband. Witnesses told police that their pit bull puppy named

(get ready for this),

"Cocaine",

had lunged at some children. When the husband came to pick the dog up, police said, Betty, his wife, fired twice, hitting her husband once in the chest. "Oops! My bad.", says Betty. Police spokeswoman said the death appeared to have been accidental.

I was just wondering about naming that sweet little puppy "Cocaine". Of all the dog names we've considered in the past, we just never thought of that one. And, oh yeah, whenever I've taken our little puppy for a walk around children, it just never has occurred to me to pack a gun.

And I'm just envisioning how much easier it would have been to pull on a leash, than to fish around in your pocket for a gun, then aim at a moving target, with children playing nearby. Hmmmm. Leash? I sorta doubt it. Maybe a novel approach when walking a temperamental dog that you love, is to have a leash with you instead of a gun!

Sandra

God Is Painting The Mountains

2012-10-27T09:33:00.004-04:00

Enjoy!

My own personal photographer!

Handmade Envelopes by Maureen in Canada

2012-10-14T13:40:00.001-04:00

I've always wanted to make beautiful envelopes. I could just buy them here instead. I love these.

Paper & Rose Creations by Me: Handmade Envelopes almost completed!